


The Balance Of Risk

by Suzie_Shooter



Series: Lights Out 'Verse [3]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: Alex and Yassen have made a life together on a Greek island, but their peaceful existence is about to be threatened by someone who's prepared to expose Yassen's identity if he doesn't get his own way. The trouble is, one of the things he wants may be Alex...(Sequel to Lights Out/Unfinished Business, but can be read as a stand alone story)
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Series: Lights Out 'Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167692
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62





	The Balance Of Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nanimok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanimok/gifts).



Alex woke with a start, heart pounding as he stared into the semi-dark. The sun wasn’t up yet but there was a security light outside that let him make out the basic shapes in the room. For a second he forced himself to lie still. He knew it had only been a dream, he _knew_ it – proving it would only be an exercise in humiliation and needlessly wake up Yassen.

But he couldn’t shake the impression of something cold and deadly slithering against his leg and after a few more seconds he broke, jumping out of bed, turning on the lamp and throwing back the duvet. 

The empty expanse of sheet stared back at him accusingly and he sagged, as Yassen rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm protestingly. 

“Alex?”

“Sorry.” Alex snapped the light off again and got back into bed. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

A moment later an arm insinuated itself around his waist and he was drawn back against the warmth of Yassen’s body. 

“There are no snakes, Alex,” Yassen murmured against his neck, lips just brushing the skin. “You are quite safe.”

Alex sighed, face burning and glad Yassen couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“And you know you don’t have to be.” The brush of Yassen’s mouth became a kiss pressed beneath his ear. 

“Still. I thought I was past all that.” Alex sounded bitter, and Yassen’s hold on him tightened in wordless comfort. “Fucking – nightmares. I’m not a kid any more.”

“Children don’t have the monopoly on nightmares.” 

“You don’t have them.”

“I don’t dream much at all. I’m not entirely convinced that’s healthier,” Yassen pointed out. “They will fade again,” he promised. “Give it time.” 

“And in the meantime I go on disturbing you every night?”

“If you need to, yes,” Yassen said calmly. “If checking makes you feel better, then do so. Every time.” 

“Maybe I should sleep in the spare room.”

“No. How would that make you feel better? We’re a team Alex. We’ll get through this together.”

“You must think I’m so pathetic.” 

The brush of Yassen’s lips exploring Alex’s neck briefly became a sharp nip of teeth.

“Ow!” 

“Did something bite you? Maybe it was a snake.”

“Yassen!” Alex spluttered with protesting laughter and flopped onto his back in surrender.

Yassen took the opportunity to kiss him on the mouth. “If it’s snakes you’re after, I’ve got one you can charm?” he murmured.

“Let me guess – spitting cobra?” Alex was smiling now, his mood of a moment ago slipping away with the shreds of his dream. 

“Something like that.” 

Alex’s hand disappeared under the covers, and did a certain amount of investigating. The night was looking up.

–

It meant he slept late the next morning, and Alex woke with the sun in his eyes and the sounds of the boatyard below going about its morning business. 

When Alex had finally got his hands on his inheritance he’d insisted on pouring it into rebuilding the clubhouse. The name on the yacht club gate was Walker-Petersen now, and they’d got planning permission to put up a three storey structure on the site of the one that had burned down. With club offices and marina storage on the ground floor, there was a bar and balcony overlooking the bay on the first floor and they had a private apartment on the second. 

Alex worked here full time now, had sold his watersports business to come and help Yassen manage the day-to-day running of the place while the building works were underway. Now they were finally complete he could afford a more relaxed start to the day, although it probably wouldn’t save him from a sarcastic comment from Yassen by the time he finally showed his face.

Still. Alex stretched pleasurably. Yassen had left him asleep when he could have woken him up. He closed his eyes again with only a twinge of guilt and pulled the covers over his head. Another five minutes wouldn’t hurt.

–

Mid-morning, buried in a pile of invoices, Yassen looked up in annoyance as the door to his office was shoved open hard enough to bang off the bookcase behind. 

The man who walked in had the look of an angry hog. He was wide around the middle, not overly tall, with thinning red hair and beard and a blotchy red face that owed more to alcohol than sun. He was also wearing a scowl that suggested he’d found someone else with their snout in his favourite trough.

“You gave my mooring to somebody else,” he accused Yassen without preamble.

Unruffled, but irritated by the manner of his entry Yassen leaned back in his seat, regarding him unfavourably. 

“You owe a very large amount in mooring fees and membership Mr Carter. I have reminded you of this several times, and given you ample opportunity to pay. You haven’t. So, yes, your mooring has been reallocated. I am running a business, not a charity.”

Carter planted his hands on Yassen’s desk and leaned forward threateningly. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to give me a better mooring. And you’re going to forget about what I owe.”

Yassen frowned slightly. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I know who you are, Mr Gregorovich.” 

Yassen kept his face perfectly blank and shook his head slightly. “My name is Petersen, you are well aware of that.”

“Now perhaps. Wasn’t a few years ago, was it? Oh yes, I know who you are. And there’s plenty more who’d like to know where you’re lurking too I reckon.”

“You appear to have me confused with someone else.”

“Nice try.” Carter smirked. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not wired. But I do know who you are. What you are. A criminal. A common killer.” 

“If that’s what you believe, then attempting to blackmail me would appear to be an interesting choice.”

Carter’s smirk sharpened into a glare. “Don’t go getting any ideas now. Anything happens to me, certain people will suddenly find out who and why.” 

“Are you done with your fantasies, or will there be anything else Mr Carter?”

“For now.” He straightened up and opened the door. At that precise moment Alex was coming in with a coffee, and Carter gave him an assessing up and down look. “Like ‘em older, do you?” he leered, jerking his head towards Yassen. 

Alex gave him a look of bewildered disgust, but Carter had gone.

“I thought you’d kicked him off?” Alex asked, turning to Yassen.

“So did I. Are you alright to look after things here for a while? I need to go out.”

“Where are you going?” Alex asked in surprise.

“I just need to check on some things.” He needed to find out who Carter was, for one. The man and his boat had been a fixture on the island for a while now, but Yassen had never had the impression they’d met before.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

Alex frowned. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know.” 

Yassen hesitated. “It’s nothing.” He pulled Alex closer and gave him a kiss. “I love you,” he murmured. Alex’s eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t that Yassen never said it, it was just rare that outside of the bedroom he ever said it _first_.

“I love you too,” Alex said automatically, then caught Yassen’s sleeve as he went to move past. “You will tell me right? If there’s anything I need to know?”

Yassen paused for the merest beat before nodding. “Of course.”

–

Yassen didn’t reappear for the rest of the day and by the time he finally got back, Alex was already in bed. When he heard the door to the apartment he breathed a sigh of relief and sat up as Yassen came into the room.

“Guess that was a real thorough checking you were giving whatever it was you were checking, huh?” Alex said accusingly, his worry turning to anger now that he could see Yassen was alright.

Yassen sighed. “I’m sorry. I had to go to the mainland.” 

“What, you forget to take your phone with you?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Yassen snapped, shrugging off his jacket and disappearing into the bathroom. When he came out again he’d stripped down to his boxers. He dropped his clothes on a chair and leant wearily on the dressing table, looking at Alex in the mirror. 

The trip had been a waste of time, he was still none the wiser as to who Carter was or how he knew him and Yassen was consequently tired and irritable, but he knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on Alex.

Alex though slipped out of bed and came across, wrapping his arms around Yassen from behind and hugging him tight.

After a moment Yassen turned and lifted him up to sit on the dressing table, pushing in between his legs to kiss him.

Alex laughed, wrapping his legs around Yassen’s waist and kissing back with relief. Yassen gathered him into his arms and buried his face in Alex’s neck with a groan. 

“Yassen? Tell me what’s wrong,” Alex coaxed. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s Carter. He knows who I am.”

Alex froze. “Fuck.”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

Yassen looked up, surprised. It had been his first instinct, but he hadn’t thought Alex would approve. “Would you have a problem with that?” he asked quietly. 

Alex considered. He thought particularly about how Carter’s leering gaze had made him shudder. That the man had the capacity to bring their world crashing down, after everything they’d been through – he shook his head hesitantly. “I won’t stop you. Not if you think it’s necessary.”

Yassen looked thoughtful. “There are complications. He claims there is information that would be shared, if anything were to happen to him. It could be a bluff but – I need to make sure first, and that won’t be easy.”

They got into bed together and held each other close. Yassen was clearly preoccupied and Alex didn’t push. He’d run out of patience if Yassen didn’t share his thoughts sooner or later, but he trusted him not to hide things Alex needed to know.

After a while Yassen finally looked up with a sigh. “I always wondered how Ian found us. Now I suppose we know. I just hope Carter hasn’t told anyone else.”

“I guess worse case, we can always run,” Alex said.

“You’ve done nothing to run from. And this place is in your name now. We should perhaps consider – ” Yassen got no further, because Alex had pressed an indignant hand over his mouth.

“You’d better not have been about to suggest going off without me,” he said hotly. “You wouldn’t fucking dare. If we go, we go together. Team remember? Or was that all bollocks?”

Yassen smiled, and kissed the fingers still pressed to his lips. Alex reluctantly withdrew his hand, looking flushed. 

“As long as you’re sure,” Yassen said quietly. 

“Do you really have to ask?” 

“No. But it’s still right that I do.” 

Alex kissed him softly on the mouth. “Whatever happens, I’m with you to the end.”

–

The next few days were fraught with tension. Unable to do anything immediately to resolve the issue, Yassen had had to grant Carter one of the better mooring positions and was consequently in a furious mood.

Carter himself had started working from the yacht club bar, monopolising one of the best tables and running up an extortionate tab, chortling every time he caught Yassen glaring at him. 

Tired of the atmosphere, and tired in general thanks to his recurring nightmares, Alex wandered down the pontoon to where their own yacht was moored. He climbed on board and sat down with a sigh, closing his eyes against the sun and pretending he was bobbing in the middle of the ocean, miles from any trouble.

They’d sailed halfway round the world on this boat. Yassen had bought it from a drug lord in Colombia and they’d vanished into the Pacific, away from the prying eyes and pursuit of MI6.

Alex had still been only sixteen at the time, and they’d both been a little rough around the edges. In the wide open expanse of the ocean they’d grown into each other. Learning they could rely on each other, trust each other. With only the other for company for weeks at a time, they’d talked, argued, laughed, fought, fucked. The South Seas, New Guinea, New Zealand, India, Sri Lanka, Madagascar, Zanzibar, the place names rolled through Alex’s mind stirring memories that were beginning to blur. Over ten years ago now, that they’d washed up here and decided to stay.

Alex had friends here now, genuine ones that he could hang out with whenever he wanted, who’d never known him as anything other than the perfectly normal and unremarkable Alex Walker. Yassen, forever less sociable, had the respectable number of acquaintances that Yanni Petersen, yacht club and bar owner would be expected to have, but Alex suspected they were all performative. Yassen was happy with his own company, and Alex’s. But he’d never minded that Alex wanted more.

A shadow fell over Alex’s face and he opened his eyes, tensing immediately, only to relax when he realised it was Yassen.

“Thought I might find you out here.” Yassen climbed aboard and sat down next to him. Alex leaned into his side, and Yassen wrapped an arm around him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” It was a sigh more than anything, and Yassen kissed the side of his head.

“Maybe we should just – sail off into the sunset,” Alex murmured after they’d sat there in silence for a while.

“If that’s what you want, we can do that,” Yassen said. “I thought you’d want to stay.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“We can fix this, Alex. I will fix it.”

“Why can’t people just leave us alone?”

Yassen was gazing at him with a fond look on his face and Alex fidgeted. “What are you thinking about?”

“About how lucky I am,” Yassen said softly. “When I don’t deserve to be.”

“Shut up, yes you do.” Alex kissed him, then kissed him again, harder. 

Things got rapidly more heated from there, and eventually they went down into the cabin and threw themselves onto the bed, already pulling at each other’s clothes. They made love fast and hard, hungry for each other and needing the reassurance that came from the other’s touch.

Afterwards they lay drowsing, watching the reflections of the water on the ceiling. 

“Have you thought any more about – about what you might do?” Alex asked finally, not liking to put it into words. “Assuming we stay?” He was mildly shocked at himself to discover he didn’t find the idea of killing someone to solve their problems more abhorrent, but it certainly helped that Carter was so objectionable.

Yassen looked at him and sighed. “I have to be careful. Not just because of what safeguards he might have in place, I’m inclined to think he’s bluffing about that. But I don’t want to draw too much attention to us. Another body turning up here, after what happened before – it might raise a flag somewhere. Mrs Jones might change her mind about leaving us in peace if she thought I’d come out of retirement, so to speak.”

Alex wriggled into his arms and laid his head on Yassen’s chest, humming contentedly when Yassen started stroking his hair. “You’ll figure something out. I have full confidence.”

Yassen gave a quiet laugh. “No pressure then.”

Alex smiled. “You can handle it.”

–

The next morning Alex was stacking empties on the bar when Carter came up behind him.

“Good morning Alex. Hard at work I see.”

“Can I get you something Mr Carter?” Alex enquired, keeping his tone polite with an effort of will. 

“Well that’s very kind of you,” Carter smirked. “I certainly don’t mind helping myself.”

Alex jumped as Carter’s hand came to rest on his backside and gave him a firm squeeze. He pulled away, embarrassed and disgusted.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Carter laughed. “I’ve seen the way you carry on.” 

Alex fled from the public bar feeling sick, trying to scrub from his mind the memory of Carter’s fingers worming their way into his crack. 

He burst into the back room then drew up short, flustered at finding Yassen in there.

“Alex? Is everything alright?” Yassen took in his flushed expression and came closer. “What’s happened?” 

“Nothing,” Alex lied, and Yassen’s gaze narrowed. 

“Was it Carter?”

“Maybe.”

“What did he do?” Yassen demanded. He hadn’t missed Carter’s leering, and now he eyed Alex’s uncomfortable and angry expression with concern. “Did he touch you?”

“No. It was nothing. It’s fine.”

Yassen stared at him, then sighed. “I can tell when you’re lying too you know,” he said softly. 

Alex looked pained. “He grabbed my arse,” he admitted finally. “Don’t let it make things worse. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I’m not having this.” He made for the door and Alex grabbed his arm in a panic. 

“Yassen, just leave it. We can’t afford to piss him off.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to let him touch you!” 

“I didn’t _let_ him,” Alex snapped, and Yassen immediately looked pained.

“That wasn’t – that wasn’t what I meant,” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

Alex sighed and pulled him into a hug. “Can’t we just forget it?” he said plaintively, while knowing in his heart that nothing short of a nuclear attack would dissuade Yassen from wading in now. 

He half wished he hadn’t said anything, but he also knew that letting Carter get away with taking liberties would only lead to worse things. Yassen’s flare of protective anger felt guiltily good after Carter had made him feel so dirty. 

Yassen pulled back, and his expression hardened. “Carter thinks he knows who I am. He’s about to learn he doesn’t know the half of it.”

He found Carter working alone at a table in the window. Yassen walked up to him and without a word of greeting pushed the lid of Carter’s laptop shut.

Startled, Carter looked up then scowled when he saw who it was.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

Yassen regarded him impassively. There was no display of anger, just calm intent, and he felt the weight of old certainties settle on him like a familiar coat. Carter was a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Alex is off limits.”

“I set the rules here, unless you want people to know your dirty little secret,” Carter hissed, opening his laptop again.

Yassen’s eyes were cold. “Forgive me, I don’t think you fully understand what I’m saying,” he said, keeping his tone deceptively pleasant. “If you touch Alex again, I will tear you into little bloody pieces. Consequences or not, it will be too late to help you. When I’ve finished, there won’t be enough left of you to bury. I will send you home in a bucket, Mr Carter. That’s a promise.”

When he came back Alex was waiting for him apprehensively. “Did you just make things worse?” he demanded.

Yassen shrugged. “Probably.” He caught Alex’s eye and conceded a guilty smile. “Worth it though. I thought he was going to shit himself.”

“Yassen!” Alex gave a helpless laugh and slapped him on the arm before leaning against his chest tiredly. “I can fight my own battles you know,” he said quietly.

“I know.” Yassen wrapped his arms around Alex and kissed him. “But you shouldn’t have to fight mine.”

–

After that Carter kept a low profile for a day or two, although he still turned up every lunchtime to sit like a malignant toad in a corner of the bar, silently proving the point that Yassen didn’t dare remove him.

The extensive digging Yassen had done into Carter’s background hadn’t turned up anything helpful. He couldn’t remember ever meeting the man before, although that wasn’t to say he hadn’t. The trouble was, in the years Yassen had worked for Scorpia he hadn’t always been told more than he needed to know – often just a target or objective, without details of who was paying. It was possible that Carter had been aware of him without them ever actually meeting. It made him uneasy, not least in wondering how many other people were out there who could recognise him. Perhaps it was more surprising that it hadn’t happened before now.

Yassen didn’t like feeling his hands were tied. His instincts were telling him to quietly dispose of Carter in a shallow grave and move on, but this was his home now. He refused to be run out of town by a two-bit bully like Carter, and he certainly wasn’t going to allow a precedent to be set that suggested he could be blackmailed. 

The problem was two-fold: did anyone else already know, and were Carter’s threats of failsafes in the case of his death bluff or reality?

On the first point, Yassen didn’t think Carter would have told anyone. He wouldn’t have wanted to share his advantage for one, and also there wasn’t anyone that close to him. He had executive interests in a number of companies, but they were all dealt with remotely. He also dabbled in local import/exports, which seemed to bring in a return out of all proportion to his declared level of investment. Yassen suspected something more going on under the radar there. 

Carter was twice-divorced and currently ostensibly single. While a certain number of women and young men hung around him, to Yassen’s assessing eye a good proportion of them were paid escorts. Carter had money, but was so unpleasant that even the most dedicated of gold-diggers tended not to hang around for long. In the expat yachting circles in which they moved, there were plenty of more attractive prospects to be found.

Alex for instance certainly garnered plenty of attention, being tall, blond and muscular, but it amused Yassen how often customers made passes at him too before realising Alex was more than just his business partner. Even then people still made assumptions, that Alex was just his toyboy, or that Alex was a gold-digger himself. Few people appreciated the length of time they’d been together, or the hard-won level of trust between them.

Carter certainly had nothing like it, which made Yassen inclined to think he’d keep the knowledge to himself.

The second worry, that Carter somehow had protocols in place to expose Yassen’s identity if something happened to him, was more of a worry. It could be an automated file release, it could be as simple as a letter lodged with a third party. What Yassen needed was access to Carter’s laptop, but he was too careful never to leave it unattended.

Carter decided to flex his muscles again a few days later. He announced a birthday party to be held on his yacht, and smilingly placed his order for a ridiculous amount of alcohol at the bar.

Stony-faced, Alex took down the details, knowing full well Carter didn’t intend to pay for any of it. He wanted to tell him to fuck off, but Yassen had advised caution until they had a plan so he swallowed his anger and remained polite. But Carter had saved the best for last.

“Oh, and I’d like you to come and host.”

“You what?” Alex stared at him, taken aback. 

“Look after my guests. Play barman. Keep their glasses topped up, that kind of thing. Nothing complicated.” Carter looked him up and down covetously. “Wear something tight.”

He’d gone before Alex could object. 

Alex made his way down to the office and hesitantly told Yassen what Carter had said.

“I’m going to break that man’s fingers.” Yassen stared out the window blankly. “And then make him swallow them.” 

Alex nudged him. “And in less immediately revenge-fuelled scenarios? What do I tell him?”

“You don’t have to do it,” Yassen said immediately. “I won’t have him using me to get to you. He wants somebody to play barmaid I’ll fucking do it myself.”

Alex smiled, picturing the atmosphere at a birthday party hosted by a rage-filled ex-assassin. It was a happy thought. 

“Could it help us in any way though?” Alex asked practically. “If I had access to the yacht I mean. You said you wanted to be able to snoop around. Doesn’t this get me in? It’s not like he can make a pass at me in front of a bunch of guests. He’s just seeing what he can get away with, it won’t be dangerous.”

Yassen hesitated. It wasn’t a bad idea, much as he hated the thought of Alex being in close confines with Carter. But Alex was capable of taking care of himself, he knew that. And anything that gave them an edge at this point couldn’t be discounted. 

“It has merit,” he admitted. “If you could place a few bugs, hearing what he talks about away from here would be useful. You might even manage to get to his laptop.” He sighed. “But I don’t like the idea of you taking risks.”

“What risks? He’s just a creep, he’s not dangerous,” Alex protested. “Worse case, I knee him in the nuts. Come on, it’s the perfect opportunity and he’s handed it to us because he’s a twat who doesn’t know when to stop pushing his luck.”

Yassen eyed him uncomfortably. Alex had made a good point, possibly without realising it. By giving in to all Carter’s demands were they leaving themselves open to something worse? But right now it seemed a heaven-sent opportunity.

“Alright,” Yassen decided. “If you’re happy to do it then let’s go for it. I got hold of some devices when he started making trouble, this is our chance to plant them.” 

He sighed, hoping Alex fully appreciated that if their investigations proved Carter had no back up plans in place then it would seal the man’s death. It was one thing angrily saying you wanted someone to die when they’d just groped you, it was another being complicit in their cold-blooded murder to protect your own peaceful existence. He didn’t want Carter causing problems post-mortem as well.

–

Carter’s yacht was a gin-palace of epic proportions which dwarfed the sailing boats moored around it like an ostrich in a duckpond, and looked equally out of place. The tiny port town was hardly Monte Carlo, but then, Alex reflected, Carter’s boat would look tiny by comparison there. 

He realised what it was Carter liked here: on such a small island he could pretend he was important. Anywhere else he’d be a little fish. Alex had met his share of rich megalomaniacs and Carter was just a wannabe. Unfortunately he was a wannabe in possession of information that could sink them, which was why Alex was currently climbing on board carrying a crate of champagne and a selection of listening devices. 

“There you are.” Carter appeared like an unwelcome smell and looked Alex up and down approvingly. Alex was wearing an open-necked white shirt and form-fitting beige slacks, but he also had on a waiter’s apron which had the twin bonus of preventing Carter’s gaze getting anywhere near his crotch and a large pouch that contained several devices of electronic nature and enough cocktail umbrellas and corkscrews to provide a very spiky welcome for unwary or inquisitive wandering hands.

To Alex’s relief, other than directing him to where the bar was set up on the upper deck, Carter was suitably distracted by his guests to leave him to it. The power play had been to get him here, but Alex had apparently been right about the number of people preventing anything more unpleasant.

He went about his duties as instructed, used to serving in the club bar and on at least nodding terms with most of the guests present. Half greeted him cheerily and half ignored him as staff, which suited him fine. 

Once things were underway he grabbed a bottle and used it as an excuse to start circulating. The bugs were unobtrusive black discs with self-adhesive pads, but he still needed to find places that would pick up any private conversations Carter might have. He stuck one in the wheelhouse under a fibreglass trim, and looked around. He needed to go below into the cabins. 

Carter was holding forth loudly at the far end of the deck and Alex took his chance, descending into the main saloon area. There were more guests down here and he did the rounds, freshening glasses and collecting empties. Nobody seemed to notice when he carried on through, slipping down the passage to the bedrooms.

It was easy to tell which was Carter’s, it was the largest and messiest. Alex slipped inside and looked around quickly. Of all places, this was the one he really didn’t want to get caught in. He glanced at the crumpled sheets and suppressed a shudder. All too easy to imagine Carter coming in behind him and locking the door and - 

Alex took a swig out of the bottle he was carrying to wash away the taste of bile.

He stuck one of the bugs inside a panel beneath the bed and spared a thought for Yassen who at some point was probably going to have to listen to a recording of the man doing whatever it was he did in here. Still, Alex had to be thorough.

He escaped from the oppressive room with a tangible feeling of relief and his spirits rose further when he got back in the main cabin to find it deserted. 

He dropped to his knees and stuck one of the bugs underneath the table.

“What are you doing down there?”

The accusatory bark made him jump and Alex almost banged his head on the underside of the table. He shuffled out quickly, but he had an excuse ready and for once he was glad Carter was distracted by the sight of his arse.

“I knocked over a bowl of the chocolates,” Alex explained, shuffling out and dropping a pair of wrapped truffles into the dish on the table. He got to his feet and tried to walk out, but Carter was blocking the way with his bulk.

“You should be nicer to me you know,” Carter said. “I could make it worth your while.”

Alex glared at him. “You’re blackmailing the man I love, what planet are you on that you think that’s going to make me think at all well of you?”

Carter didn’t move but his expression changed, from outright leering to something more calculated.

“Oh, so he has told you? And you know who he is do you? That’s interesting. I did wonder.”

Alex winced inwardly, but figured it couldn’t hurt now. 

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” he hissed. “Seriously, what are you getting out of it?” The man clearly wasn’t in need of money looking at the way he lived. He could have paid his mooring fees twenty times over and not noticed the loss. No, Alex concluded this was about petty power games. Carter liked feeling in control, feeling that he was one up on the opposition. 

“Well now, since you ask.” Carter drifted closer. “That brings us neatly back to my first point. You really should consider being more amenable Alex. Maybe work on convincing me to keep my mouth shut, huh?”

Alex went cold as he realised what Carter was suggesting. The man was clearly wary of touching him uninvited again after Yassen’s promise of violent retribution but if he could get Alex to agree to it...

For a second Alex actually wondered if he could go through with it. If it came down to it, if it was the only thing that could keep them safe, could he grit his teeth and let Carter fuck him? But with the man this close a shudder of revulsion ran through him. 

Alex leaned in. “Here’s the thing. If you ever touch me again? I’ll burst your testicles like a pair of mouldy grapes.”

Carter jerked backwards as if Alex had slapped him.

“As if I’d be interested in a little slut like you anyway,” he snarled. 

Alex, who’d lost his virginity to Yassen at sixteen and had never slept with anyone else, found this so absurd as an insult that he actually laughed, which was a mistake. Carter scowled at him.

“Perhaps you think deep down your precious Russian is a good man, despite his reputation?”

“He’s better than you,” Alex couldn’t help retorting. 

“Oh, he’s done much worse things than me,” Carter sneered. “You think a little blackmail is so bad? At least I’ve never committed mass-murder.”

“Neither – ” Alex broke off the instinctive defence as he realised he didn’t actually know what Yassen might have done. He knew some of it, but Yassen wasn’t all that forthcoming on the details of his time with Scorpia, and Alex had to concede they’d been mixed up in more than one scheme that would have resulted in thousands of deaths if Alex hadn’t stopped them. How did he know there hadn’t been others, more successful?

Carter saw the uncertainty on his face and gave him an unpleasant smile. “I know for a fact he poisoned a whole town once. Or maybe that sort of thing turns you on?”

“You’re lying.” Alex’s throat felt dry. He desperately didn’t want it to be true, but he also suspected Yassen was entirely capable of having done so. 

“I worked for an oil exploration company at one point. We had a promising location, with one small problem – there was a village right where we wanted to be drilling. So we arranged things with an outside contractor, shall we say, to facilitate access. Gregorovich contaminated the water supply.” 

Carter’s smile was making Alex feel ill. “Oh they didn’t _all_ die. But enough did, or got sick, that they had to leave. Very handily for us. Our company even helped with relocation expenses, got hugely positive publicity from it.” He laughed. “Must say it’s a waste in a way, a man like that spending his time in a backwater like this. Can’t spend _all_ his time screwing you. Doesn’t he get bored?”

“Fuck you.” It was all Alex could manage, and it just made Carter laugh.

“You’re welcome to. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll show you what a real man can do.”

Alex watched him turn and walk out of the cabin, and found he was shaking. 

–

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Alex fitted the last couple of bugs in the upper deck seating area and slipped away with the first of the guests to leave, guessing that Carter wouldn’t object. There were other waiters, and it had never really been about the work Alex was doing. 

The sun had gone down long since, and he made his way back through the darkened boatyard, savouring the cool night air after the lights and noise of the party. 

Yassen was waiting up for him, but to Alex’s relief he didn’t push him for details of how it had gone. Alex felt like his head was full of static and he needed to order his thoughts before he could make sense of how he felt. 

As they got ready for bed Alex could feel Yassen’s eyes on him, knew he certainly wanted to talk about the evening but was familiar enough with Alex’s moods to let him be the one to get round to it. Alex could be spiky if he felt cornered, but he was also hopeless at keeping things inside for long, and Yassen had long ago discovered he could avoid a lot of arguments by simply waiting Alex out.

The fact that Alex knew he was doing this was occasionally the cause of an argument in itself, but tonight Alex was just grateful Yassen knew him so well.

Once in bed and settled next to each other, Alex gave a big sigh and Yassen reached out to find his hand. 

“It went okay?” he ventured.

“Yeah. I guess. I got all the bugs planted. No sign of his laptop though.”

“Probably locked away in the townhouse,” Yassen mused. “I might need a different approach there. Carter wasn’t too handsy?”

“No, he mostly just perved from a distance.” Alex shuddered. “I had to warn him off at one point though.”

“I know. I particularly liked the line about the grapes.”

Alex pulled away and stared at him, startled and accusing and Yassen laughed. 

“Alex you literally had a pocketful of bugs,” he pointed out. 

“Oh. Yeah.” It somehow hadn’t occurred to Alex that Yassen would have been listening in already. No wonder he hadn’t been too impatient to hear the details, he already knew them. 

But, Alex thought, if Yassen really had heard the whole conversation with Carter that did make it easier to bring up the other thing that had been on his mind. He turned onto his side to face him, chewing his thumbnail.

“Did you really poison a whole town?”

Yassen stared at the ceiling. Somehow he’d known this conversation would be coming. “I’ve done a lot worse than that, Alex,” he said finally. 

Alex shook his head. “How did you sleep at night?”

Yassen glanced at him, but there was nothing particularly accusatory in Alex’s tone and he relaxed a little.

“Mostly I didn’t.”

Alex sat up. “You know what I mean. Didn’t it bother you?”

Yassen considered. “At first I was running largely on spite. Then after a while – it just became habit I suppose. Life felt cheap. I make no apologies for what I did, but I’m not going to defend it or make out it was somehow fine or clever.” He paused. “Well, some of it was quite clever.”

Alex pinched him and he grunted out a laugh, relieved that was the extent of Alex’s retribution. 

“I can’t change the past, Alex,” he sighed.

“I know.” Alex lay down again and kissed him. “I love you,” he whispered. He’d long ago made his peace with who and what Yassen was, but it was important to him that Yassen knew that too, and feeling the strength of the embrace Yassen pulled him into, he was immediately glad he’d said it.

“I love you too,” Yassen breathed. “So much. So much it scares me.”

“Scares you?” Alex looked up with a questioning smile and Yassen stroked Alex’s hair. 

“It feels like all my life I never cared about anyone or anything and now I’m pouring it all into you,” Yassen confessed. “If anything ever happened to you – I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” Alex kissed him firmly, then gave him a sly smile. “So, uh. Don’t suppose you fancy pouring a little more into me?”

Yassen snorted. “That was not meant to be filthy.”

“Well, I’m making it filthy,” Alex grinned. “Unless you’re not interested of course?”

“I didn’t say that.” Yassen caught him round the waist and pushed him down into the sheets. 

–

As Alex hadn’t managed to locate Carter’s laptop on the yacht, Yassen needed another plan. The problem was, Carter had it with him almost all of the time, and was too much on his guard to let either him or Alex near it in the bar. Somehow he needed to recruit someone Carter was less likely to suspect. 

While the number of sex workers on the island tended to ebb and flow with the tourist season, Irina Kostakis was one of the residents and Yassen was sure he’d seen her with Carter on more than one occasion. 

They were on fairly good terms, the marina bar being one of the only venues Irina wasn’t actively discouraged from drinking in, and Yassen walked down to her usual haunt on the harbour.

“Hey handsome. Looking to expand your horizons?”

Yassen gave a low laugh. “Thank you for the offer, but I had something else in mind. You occasionally go with Rex Carter don’t you?”

Irina immediately looked suspicious. “What if I do?”

“What if I said I needed access to his laptop?”

“Darling even I can’t fit a laptop up there.” Irina laughed at his expression. 

“Look, all I need is someone to plug in a thumb drive. No downloads, no need to access anything. Just plug it in and leave it.”

“He’ll notice it, surely?” Irina protested. 

“Won’t matter. It’ll look blank. Nothing to connect it to either of us.”

“If he catches me...” Irina sounded dubious. 

“I’ll pay.”

“Damn right you’ll pay.” She looked considering. “How much?”

–

Negotiations with Irina concluded, Yassen had been quite satisfied with his morning’s work. Alex, it turned out, was less happy.

“You did what?” Alex stared at him, outraged. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Yassen protested. 

“You seriously can’t see?” 

“Alex, he already pays her to sleep with him. I’m not asking her to do anything she isn’t doing already.”

“Except maybe now she’ll feel like she has to? And what if he catches her, what if he gets suspicious and hurts her? Don’t you care about _any_ body else?”

“Are you going to shout at me if I say no?”

Alex made an exasperated noise and Yassen shook his head.

“There is no nice way of settling this Alex. If you’re going to object to my methods then maybe I just shouldn’t tell you what I’m doing.”

“Oh _that’s_ mature.”

“I don’t have time for this.” Yassen turned to leave and Alex grabbed him. 

“How am I supposed to believe you care about my opinions if every time I disagree with you, you shut me down?”

“What do you want me to say Alex? Would you prefer it if I used you? He likes you, doesn’t he? Maybe I should have asked you to be the honeytrap.”

Alex slapped him, an open-handed crack across the cheek that jerked Yassen’s head to the side. 

They stared at each other, Alex breathing so hard Yassen could see the rise and fall of his shoulders. Then Alex threw himself into Yassen’s arms, winding his arms around his neck and stifling a sob.

Yassen held him close, feeling the pounding of Alex’s heart through his thin t-shirt. “I’m sorry,” he sighed.

“You’re a dick,” Alex muttered, voice muffled by Yassen’s shoulder.

“I know.” 

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I probably deserved it.”

“ _Probably_?” Alex looked up and they exchanged rueful smiles.

“It’ll be okay,” Yassen promised quietly. “It’ll be okay.”

–

Irina sat on the balcony of Rex Carter’s house in the old town and sipped wine she suspected from the label had come from the sailing club bar. She wasn’t sure why Yanni wanted access to Carter’s private files, but assumed it had something to do with the fact Rex appeared to be doing his best to drink the man dry. There was clearly no love lost between them, and she debated the wisdom of getting involved. 

Rex, for all his objectionable personality and grotesque appearance was rather vanilla when it came to sex, possibly due to a limited imagination. A few minutes of grunting and he was generally done, and she was considerably better off. It would be a foolish move to risk losing that regular income. 

Rex liked his pretty boys too of course, but Petersen didn’t go both ways, he was never going to be interested in her services. Why had she even considered it?

She slid a hand into her pocket, feeling the thumb drive nestling in the bottom. She could give it back. Return the money. Although – it had been a _lot_ of money. 

She could tell Rex. He might pay her himself, for the information. 

But a sense of self-preservation told her that might be an unwise course of action. And she liked Petersen. Unlike a lot of people he’d never treated her as anything other than a businesswoman, and she didn’t think it was just because he wasn’t interested in sex. She suspected he’d been around. There was a man with interesting stories to tell, if he could ever be convinced to tell them.

Rex was in the shower, scrubbing his post-coital porcine body in preparation for a business meeting. His laptop was on the table inside. It would be the work of seconds to push the thing in, but if she hesitated too long the moment would be lost – or worse, she’d be caught in the act. 

Irina poured more wine, and squinted into the sunset. Fuck it.

–

Yassen’s laptop chimed softly in the corner of the room and he crossed to look at it.

“Yes! Thank you Irina.” 

Alex looked up, anxious but hopeful. “Did she do it?”

Yassen nodded. “Yes. I have a connection.”

“What will it do?”

“Lets me clone his laptop,” Yassen said, sitting down and tapping out rapid commands. “That way I have access to everything, his drives, his email, his browser history, everything in the cache.”

“He’s going to notice the thing though, eventually?”

“I just need enough time to copy everything. After that it doesn’t matter if he takes it out. And it’ll just look like a blank drive, there’s nothing incriminating on it.”

“He’ll know it’s not his though,” Alex persisted. “He’ll suspect you.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be too late by then. And he won’t know _what_ I’ve done, he’s not that tech savvy. Hopefully he’ll just think it was an aborted attempt to copy something, that someone got interrupted.”

Alex came to look over his shoulder, staring at the screen. It wasn’t very interesting, but somehow both of them stayed staring at the crawling progress bar for over an hour until it finally read complete.

“Got him.” Yassen sat back, and snaked an arm around Alex’s waist. “Now I just have to go through everything,” he sighed. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Is that code for ‘make me a coffee’?” Alex smirked. “Fine. Anything that means it’s not me that has to dig through his browser history.”

–

It was in fact not until the next morning during a working breakfast on his yacht that Carter noticed the thumb drive. It was almost flush to the rear usb port and he only noticed it when he tried to plug something else in. He stared at it suspiciously. It wasn’t his, he knew that much.

He cautiously checked the file browser. It was there now he went looking, just an empty folder.

Carter frowned. He couldn’t be sure how long it had been there. It seemed harmless enough but its mere presence made him suspicious. Had he ever left the laptop unattended when he’d been in the bar? He thought of the moment he’d found Alex snooping inside this very yacht. But it surely hadn’t been there that long. Either way, his instincts said this had something to do with Gregorovich.

He unplugged the thumb drive and dropped it over the side into the water. Something would have to be done. Gregorovich needed to know his place. Time to teach the man a lesson.

–

It had been a long night. Alex hadn’t really needed to stay awake, but found he couldn’t sleep while Yassen was poring over the contents of Carter’s laptop. The upshot was, halfway through the morning he could barely function. 

By eleven he was exhausted. Slipping out of the club he walked down to the boat and let himself into the cabin. It was warm in here, and he sprawled out on the covers of the bed, already half asleep. 

The gentle rocking lulled him. He could have gone back to bed in their apartment, but now they were living above the club there were always people around, and the boatyard was a noisy place. He’d taken to coming out here quite often lately, where there was just the clinking of masts and the lap of water. He felt safe, cocooned in the boat where he’d spent so many months alone with Yassen.

He was drowsing, eyes half closed, letting the ticking of the clock count him down to sleep. It was only when he was on the very brink of oblivion that the thought finally tugged at his mind. They didn’t have a clock on the boat. At least, not one with an audible tick.

Alex’s eyes flew open. He listened intently for a moment then sat up, tracing the sound. It was coming from one of the storage lockers. He opened it carefully, and froze. It was a crude but effective explosive device, wired with a clock and as far as he could see not attached to anything else. He couldn’t tell what time the device was primed to go off, it could be any second.

Alex’s immediate instinct was to run, but something made him stay where he was. He liked this boat. He wasn’t going to stand by and let someone destroy it. Swallowing hard, he reached out to pick it up.

–

In the bar of the clubhouse glasses rattled on the shelves as an enormous explosion rocked the boatyard. 

Yassen stared out of the large viewing window to where a plume of smoke was rising.

“What the hell?”

“Sounded like a boat,” said Carter, holding Yassen’s gaze with a smirk.

Yassen stared at him, but he wasn’t seeing him. The implication was clear, it had been his boat. What was clutching at his heart was the knowledge Alex might well have been on it.

He wasn’t sure if Carter knew of Alex’s habit of sneaking up there to sleep during the day, or if it was a terrible coincidence. He only knew that he hadn’t seen Alex around for a while, and the last time he had he’d looked dead on his feet.

Wincing at the unfortunate phrase Yassen was already moving, fighting his way through the stream of other curious people, trying not to let himself get ahead of the facts but knowing that Alex still wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and if he’d been in the clubhouse he would have appeared by now. 

There was smoke rising over the marina, and Yassen started running, a tightness in his chest that he refused to acknowledge until he knew for certain, but the implacable thought lodged in the back of his mind that if Alex was dead he would kill Carter with his bare hands, right here and right now. 

The pontoons were swaying alarmingly with the number of people crowding down from the clubhouse but Yassen was out ahead, easily keeping his balance. Two things filtered through to him at the same time. The smoke was coming from the wrong angle to be his boat, and someone was coming towards him. 

“Alex.” He almost choked with relief as they ran into each other, smacking together with a painful force. Yassen gripped him tight enough to bruise, and Alex clung to him, guessing what Yassen had thought, and knowing just how close he’d come to being right. 

“What happened?” 

“Someone put a bomb on the boat. I heard it ticking while I was lying there.”

“So you got out immediately?” Yassen said sternly.

“No, I carried it out, I wasn’t going to let him blow up our boat!” Alex said indignantly. Yassen closed his eyes, fingers digging into Alex’s arms. 

“Anyway, I was going to chuck it in the sea, but I, er, misjudged the throw and – yeah.” Alex cleared his throat. “Oops?”

Yassen finally unclenched enough to look at the boat now burning merrily a short distance away, and blinked. “Is that – Carter’s boat?” he asked slowly.

“Um. Yeah.” Alex gave him a pained look. “It was an accident! I swear.” He winced. “Have I just made things worse?”

Yassen was shaking slightly, and Alex gave him a bewildered smile as Yassen planted his face in Alex’s shoulder and laughed helplessly for nearly a whole minute. 

Finally he recovered himself and cleared his throat. “Probably,” he said. “But right now I really don’t care.”

The crowd parted and Carter shouldered his way to the front, looking at the ruins of his yacht in horror. “What the fucking hell happened to my boat?”

“I’d guess maybe a gas cylinder?” Yassen said neutrally, knowing Carter could say nothing in front of all the watching people. “You should get those things checked regularly. Shame. Hope you were insured.” He took Alex’s hand, and walked back towards the clubhouse.

–

For twenty four hours, all was quiet. Yassen sensed retribution would be coming in some form or other, and when it finally did he felt the escalation should have been obvious, terrible in its fatal simplicity.

“Mr Petersen. Might I have a word?”

Yassen, who’d been on the point of locking up for the night turned to find Carter standing behind him. 

“I suggest in your office. I don’t think you’d want anyone to overhear this.”

Yassen reluctantly let them both in again and closed the door behind him. There was a paperweight on the desk and he briefly entertained the idea of simply bashing the man’s brains out there and then. His exploration of Carter’s file history had turned up no mention of himself, coded or otherwise and the conversations he’d overheard through the bugs had all been prosaic in the extreme. It was looking almost certain that Carter’s threat of post-mortem revenge was simply a bluff. 

“What is it now?” he asked shortly, assuming it was going to be a demand that Yassen provide compensation for his yacht. But Carter had worse in store for him.

“There is a man. Pachis. He works for the revenue service. I have been having some problems with him recently. He is taking too much of an interest in my affairs.”

Yassen refrained from suggesting that Carter could remedy this by actually paying tax on everything he was importing, as that would give away the fact he had access to his files. It had crossed his mind that the authorities would be very interested in the contents of that laptop, and a simpler way of getting rid of the man might be to make an anonymous donation of the cloned copy. Except that wouldn’t prevent Carter identifying him out of spite. 

Yassen realised Carter was waiting for a response. “What do you expect me to do about it?” 

“I want you to kill him, Mr Gregorovich. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Yassen stared at him, wondering if this was what Carter had been leading up to the whole time or whether the thing with the boat had pushed him over the edge.

“Not any more,” he heard himself say. “These days I run a respectable yacht club. I suggest you look elsewhere for your solution, Mr Carter.”

“How many wanted lists are you still on?” Carter enquired. “Quite a few, I would imagine. Official and...unofficial. Man like you’s going to have enemies, I’m betting. Old grudges...plenty of people out there would like to know where you are. Isn’t it worth it, to maintain your precious illusion of peace Gregorovich? I hope you’re not going to pretend that killing an innocent man would in any way upset you.”

Yassen remained silent. Carter was right in a way, it wouldn’t bother him particularly. But it would bother Alex, and it would leave Yassen wide open to killing whoever else Carter took against. And too many deaths on this island would draw attention, he knew that for a fact.

Carter took Yassen’s silence for acquiescence and nodded approvingly. “Stamos Pachis. I’m sure you’ll have no problems finding him, the man’s always poking about. Just do as I say, and we’ll continue to get along just fine.”

Carter walked out, leaving Yassen staring blankly into space. He finally sighed. “He’s not even a member.”

–

Initially Yassen decided not to burden Alex with Carter’s latest fuckery. He figured he didn’t intend to carry out the order, so there was no point in upsetting him for no reason. The fact was though, that with this demand Carter had pushed things too far. Something had to be done. The problem was, murdering Carter was just as likely to draw undue attention as murdering Pachis.

For a couple of days Yassen stalled and did nothing. He figured Carter could hardly expect immediate results and he would have some time to plan his next move, but it turned out he’d overestimated Carter’s patience.

“Hey.” Carter slammed his glass down on the bar. “How about a little service around here? How long does a man have to wait, huh?”

Alex blinked at him, the man hadn’t been waiting even a second, but Yassen knew he wasn’t talking about a drink.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting Mr Carter,” he murmured, to Alex’s visible confusion. “Some things take time to arrange.”

“What’s to arrange? Just fucking do it. Or I might send out a little bulletin, you know?”

He marched out of the bar, ignoring the fresh drink Alex had just put in front of him.

“What was all that about?” Alex asked, struck by the sudden realisation he was missing something.

Reluctantly, Yassen drew him into the back room and told him. 

“You can’t!” Alex stared at him, horrified. Yassen rubbed his face tiredly. 

“I’m not going to.”

“Oh. Right.” Alex fidgeted. “So now what?”

Yassen shook his head. There was a decision to be taken, and it wasn’t to be taken lightly. But he didn’t think they had a choice any longer.

“Now we end things.”

–

At twenty to midnight he changed into dark and anonymous clothing and went to find Alex in the living room.

“Alex. I’m going out. If anyone asks – I was here with you all evening.” 

Alex stared at him, going cold as he realised what Yassen meant to do. 

“Carter?”

Yassen nodded meaningfully.

Alex swallowed. “Be careful.” 

Yassen had been prepared for Alex to object, could tell even now it didn’t sit well with him, but he trusted Alex to tell him if it was a deal breaker. Alex had always had a pragmatic side and this, after all, was different from Ian. He kissed him on the cheek, and left the flat.

He took a dinghy and rowed along the coast to the town. He didn’t want to risk taking the car, especially if he wanted people to think he was still at home, and this way he was less likely to be seen than walking along the road. The night was dark and moonless, and Yassen tied up silently at the public jetty. He was unarmed – plausible deniability if he was caught breaking in, and it wasn’t as if he needed a weapon to be deadly. 

It was gone midnight now, the shops and bars were closed and the streets were mostly empty apart a few lingering carousers winding their way home. No nightclubs here, but enough people still around that Yassen wouldn’t stand out.

He arrived outside Carter’s house, and made short work of the lock on the gate. The house was dark, presumably meaning Carter had already gone to bed. That was good. Smothering the man with a pillow was less likely to draw attention than breaking his neck. Carter was overweight and unfit, with any luck it would be written off as a heart attack. 

There was no way he could be completely sure Carter hadn’t made provision to expose him, but the balance of risk had swung in favour of taking him out. Yassen couldn’t afford to be made into Carter’s instrument of death, it was more dangerous at this point to leave him alive. 

While Yassen might have chafed at petty blackmail, he might in the long run have decided it was safer to put up with it. In pushing his luck, drunk on his own power, Carter had sealed his own death warrant. 

Except – as Yassen made his way through the dark house, senses on high alert, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. It was _too_ quiet. He suspected a man of Carter’s bulk would snore like a pig, but there was no sound whatsoever.

The reason for this became apparent when Yassen reached the master bedroom. The curtains were open, the lights from the street outside illuminating a bed that hadn’t been slept in.

Yassen did a fast walkthrough of the other rooms, but it only confirmed his suspicion – Carter wasn’t there. The bars were closed, the boat was matchwood – it begged the question where the hell was was he?

–

Alex was too keyed up to go to bed, and too distracted to watch tv. He rotated between pacing the flat restlessly, flipping between apps on his phone and staring out of the window that faced the town, as if he could see what was happening. 

He caught the distant sound of an engine and tensed, then relaxed again. Yassen hadn’t taken the car, so he was unlikely to arrive back in one. Probably just a boat-owner coming back for the night. It was the tail end of the season, but there were always people coming and going.

A few minutes later though there was a quiet knock on the door and Alex went quickly to open it, realising his mistake a second too late.

He should have checked, but to get this far someone would already have had to come through at least two locked doors, and he hadn’t considered it might be anyone other than Yassen. But to get this far he’d have had his keys...

The door was shoved rudely wide open and Alex staggered back a pace, taken by surprise.

“Police.”

Two men in black combat fatigues shouldered their way into the apartment, and Alex was aghast to see that standing behind them was Rex Carter.

“What the hell’s going on? You can’t come in here!” Alex protested. Half of him desperately wanted Yassen to come back and the other half prayed he’d stay away until they’d gone. 

“Where’s Gregorovich?” Carter snapped.

“Who?” Alex managed to remember to affect confusion just in time.

“Don’t play games, where is he?” Alex could do nothing but wince as the anonymous officers quickly searched the flat and came up empty. So much for Yassen’s alibi. Not that he’d need one Alex realised, given that Carter was standing here all too much alive. 

“Have you got a warrant to be in here?” Alex demanded. “Who are you? I want to see some ID.” Staring at them he realised there was no identifying insignia on their clothes, no badges, no flag. They could be special ops, but he suspected not. This was a shakedown. He imagined Carter had wanted to scare Yassen into thinking he’d turned him in for real, make him more amenable to his demands.

“You’re not real police,” Alex said angrily. “How much is Carter paying you? You don’t scare me.”

In answer one of them backhanded him viciously across the face. Taken by surprise Alex stumbled and fell, banging his head hard on the corner of the coffee table. He lay there stunned, and when he put a hand to his face his fingers came away bloody. Stupid. He’d expected them to keep up the pretence of being police even while accusing them of the opposite. 

“Bring him,” Carter snapped, and Alex tried to shake off the fuzziness as two pairs of hands grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet.

“What?” Bewildered, Alex couldn’t grasp the enormity of what was happening. Carter was openly _abducting_ him?

“Call it compensation for what happened to my boat.” Carter pushed his face into Alex’s and glared at him. “Maybe I’ll let you work off the debt. And maybe your friend will be a little more eager to cooperate if your continued existence depends on it, huh?”

Alex struggled wildly but he was still dazed from the blow to the head and they’d cuffed his hands behind his back before he could fight them off.

He was bundled down the stairs and out into the yard where a big black SUV was waiting. 

“Help!” Alex yelled into the surrounding darkness, surrendering pride to necessity. If Yassen was on his way back there was a chance he was out there somewhere, or that someone on one of the boats would hear him. “Help me, they’re – ”

He got no further. One of his captors struck a resounding blow to the back of Alex’s head with the butt of his gun, and in a shower of sparks everything went black.

–

When Yassen got back from his unsuccessful foray into town he was surprised to find the external door to their apartment standing open. He looked around, but everywhere was dark and quiet. The lights upstairs were still on, and he wished he’d brought his phone with him. He knew he’d shut and locked the door behind him. Had Alex gone out for some reason? 

Wishing for the first time that he was armed, Yassen cautiously made his way up the stairs. The door to the flat was closed, as was the door down to the bar. He listened, but could hear nothing. 

Well, he wasn’t going to find out by standing here. He unlocked the door and walked in. 

“Alex?” he called, finding the living room empty. When there was no reply he quickly checked all the rooms, but his fears were borne out – Alex wasn’t there.

Yassen clamped down on a surge of alarm. It _was_ still possible that Alex had simply gone out for some reason. He found his mobile and rang him, only to sigh as Alex’s phone promptly buzzed in response from under a crisp packet on the coffee table. 

He automatically picked up the empty packet and dropped it in the bin sitting less than a foot away, then frowned and crouched down, staring at the corner of the table. He reached out tentatively, and stared at the bright red blood staining his fingertips.

“Alex?” His voice came out more uncertainly than he’d ever heard it and he rose to his feet, full of a furious purpose that he realised a second later had no outlet. He had no doubt that Carter was behind Alex’s disappearance, but where would he have taken him? It was unlikely to be his own house. Or was he banking on Yassen not wanting to involve the police?

When Alex had received word that MI6 were officially closing the file on Yassen, he’d reluctantly given into Alex’s plea to get rid of his guns. Alex had explained how uncomfortable it had made him when he’d realised Yassen still had them, and argued that surely they would have no need for them any more. That they could live a normal life now.

Normal. Yassen gave a bitter laugh. As if either of their lives had ever been normal. He wished briefly he hadn’t agreed to it, or had had the sense to just lie, but what was done was done. 

Yassen went into the bedroom and took a box from the safe built into the back of the wardrobe. He might have got rid of his guns but that didn’t mean he’d got rid of everything. He stripped off his shirt and strapped on a knife harness, concealing blades at his back and up his arms, accessible at the flick of a wrist. 

When he caught up with the people who’d taken Alex they would pay in blood, regardless of what they had or hadn’t done to him by that point. And that was the question Yassen realised he wasn’t letting himself think about. Wherever Alex was, was he alright? Was he even still alive? He must have been when they took him, otherwise why bother, but what did Carter have in store for him?

He knew Alex was strong and he also knew Alex wouldn’t have gone quietly, but the blood worried him. If Alex was injured – but this pointless speculation wasn’t getting him anywhere. Yassen needed to know where he was, and who had him.

The boatyard had cctv these days, and Yassen pulled up the feed that covered the entrance and scrolled back. 

Saw the black car, and the men bundling a handcuffed Alex out of the building. Saw the blow that knocked him out, saw it coming before Alex did, and let out a wordless, pointless cry of warning.

Yassen stopped the recording and buried his face in his hands, breathing deeply. He had to concentrate, going off half-cocked wouldn’t help Alex. But his mind was fogged with unaccustomed panic and worry, nothing he’d ever worked on had prepared him for the feeling of knowing the life of someone he cared about – someone he loved – depended on the outcome.

If Carter had taken Alex for leverage, then Yassen could assume he would hear from him shortly. If he’d taken him for other reasons – 

Yassen circled the flat, full of a directionless anger. Part of him wanted to drive all over the island in search of the black car, but logically he knew that was a waste of time and energy. It would hardly be out in the open. 

Eventually he cracked and drove into town, crawled past Carter’s house, but all was still in darkness with no sign he’d been back. Yassen had known it was a pointless trip, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to settle until he’d checked. There’d been an outside chance Carter was just that arrogant and stupid. 

Yassen returned to the yacht club and instead pored though all the information he’d gathered on Carter and his business interests. Primarily, where did he own property. The island wasn’t all that large, there surely weren’t that many places they could be hiding. The other worry of course was that Carter had taken Alex off-island. Just because he’d lost one boat didn’t mean he didn’t have access to others. 

Once upon a time Yassen would have had access to a whole host of resources that he could have used to check out Carter’s assets, both legal and shady. He wondered fleetingly if giving all that up had been worth it, given that trouble still seemed intent on following them. They’d had ten years of relative peace and happiness. Was that to be all they were allowed? 

He shook himself. He didn’t believe in fate or karma, and you made your own luck. He would get Alex back, and he would make them sorry.

Yassen lay down on the bed, knowing sleep would never come, taking Alex’s t-shirt from under the pillow and burying his face in it. Pushing back angrily at the thoughts that kept sliding into his head every time he let his guard down for a moment.

_What are they doing to him? What if he’s already dead?_

_What then?_

–

When Alex came round he found himself bound and gagged in pitch darkness. He struggled futilely, trying to spit out the cloth tied around his mouth to no avail.

Eventually he gave up and instead took stock of his surroundings. Waking up alone was, in the circumstances, probably preferable to waking up with company. He wondered how long he’d been unconscious, whether Yassen knew he was gone. 

The wall behind him felt like bare rock, and was unpleasantly wet to the touch. Now he listened, Alex could hear water dripping somewhere, and what sounded like the lap of waves. He was underground somewhere, clearly. In a seacave? The thought he might have been left there to drown rose up nauseatingly and he started struggling all over again. 

He was tied to some kind of post, but the cuffs were professional grade and he was going nowhere. He slumped, wrists rubbed raw and head pounding. He had to believe Carter wouldn’t just kill him while he could be used to control Yassen, but that didn’t mean the man would necessarily treat him well in the meantime.

Alex tried his best not to imagine horrors in the dark with him. The horrors, he suspected, would come with the light.

–

Dawn found Yassen on the move with a renewed sense of determination. He investigated four separate properties owned by or connected with Carter only to draw a blank everywhere. He woke a confused and indignant Irina and demanded to know if there was anywhere Carter had ever taken her that wasn’t his house or boat, but had no luck there either. 

He was eventually reduced to driving aimlessly, which was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do, but he was too keyed up to sit at home and wait for Carter to get in touch. He needed to strike first, and was also agonisingly conscious that the more time passed, the more things could happen to Alex.

Luck, finally, turned in his favour. Running low on fuel he headed for the petrol station on the edge of town nearest the ferry terminal, and that was when he saw it. The black car, sitting at one of the pumps. It had to be the same one. Yassen hadn’t been able to make out the numberplate from the camera footage but he’d have noticed a vehicle like this before if it had been local.

The forecourt was deserted but he could make out a figure inside the kiosk. It was still early and there was little traffic on the road. He drove past and pulled over, hoping he was hidden by the bushes as he made his way back on foot. To his relief the car was still there, and looked empty. 

It was too open an area to make it to the car under cover, but Yassen made up his mind to chance it. It was the best shot he had. If worst came to the worst he would have to take the driver hostage openly, but if his luck held then stealth was best.

He walked across the expanse of concrete with an outward air of purpose and opened the rear door of the car, letting out a silent breath of relief when it was unlocked. 

Yassen slid onto the back seat and pulled the door quietly closed behind him, before sinking down into the footwell behind the front seats. There was a chance he’d been seen from the kiosk, there was a chance he’d be seen if the driver looked in the back, but there was also a chance it would _work_ , and right now that was all he cared about. Yassen had seen the weapons they’d been carrying on the camera footage, he had no doubt the driver was a dangerous man, but then. 

So was he.

–

As the sun rose outside, Alex gradually became aware of a lifting in the gloom around him. He still couldn’t make out details, but eventually he realised he could see the distant reflection of light on water. The sound of lapping waves was more distinct now too, and he wondered nervously if the tide was coming in. How low was this cave? How high would it come?

On the plus side it meant that somewhere the cave was open to the sea, and if he could just work himself loose he could swim to safety.

Sustained wriggling and tugging and full-bodied angry yanking only succeeded in further skinning his wrists, and he sagged miserably, conceding defeat. It had been hours now, which meant he had to assume Yassen didn’t know where he was. He had no doubt he was looking – wouldn’t let himself dwell on the idea that Carter and his goons had gone back to lie in wait for him. Yassen was no good to them dead. Hopefully, neither was he.

Eventually, by the time the hollow feeling in his stomach owed as much to hunger as to dread, Alex heard bolts being drawn back and a light appeared in the distance.

His initial flush of hope that it might be Yassen come to rescue him was dashed when it came close enough for him to make out Carter’s ugly face in the lamplight.

Carter set the lantern down on a rock and untied the gag. “Good morning Alex. I trust you slept well.”

“Get fucked.”

Carter laughed. “I’d hoped a night down here might’ve sweetened your temper.”

“You always did strike me as thick.”

Carter drew out a wicked looking knife, which he stroked up Alex’s cheek until the point came to rest just below his eye. 

“I wonder. Do you think Gregorovich would still find you so appealing if your face wasn’t as pretty any more?”

Alex swallowed down his fear. He was damned if he’d let Carter see he was afraid. “Still more appealing than I find you.”

Carter’s jaw tightened, but to Alex’s relief he lowered the knife.

“I don’t think you appreciate your position here Alex. Your precious boyfriend doesn’t have a clue where you are or what happened to you. He won’t know where to start looking assuming he even does. Maybe he’ll just think you walked out on him?”

Alex flinched, but held on tightly to the fact that Yassen wasn’t that stupid. Besides, Alex would hardly have walked out without his clothes, or his phone.

“Must hurt, huh?” Alex heard himself say. “To not have anybody who knows you well enough to know something like that would be bullshit. To not have anybody who’d care, or notice, if you just weren’t there any more.” 

“Do you know what’s going to hurt more?” Carter asked. “The things I’m going to do to you, Alex. I was going to use you as a bargaining chip, but do you know what? I deserve a little fun. Consider it recompense for my damn boat.” He stepped closer again, and ran an exploratory hand down Alex’s body, laughing as he tried to squirm away. 

“There’s going to come a time when you’ll wish you’d been nicer to me Alex. A time when you’re going to beg me to stop. And do you know what? I won’t.” 

“Yassen’s going to kill you,” Alex said through gritted teeth. 

“He’ll have to find you first. What’s left of you.” Carter looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should give you to the men first, let them soften you up a little?”

Alex shuddered, and hoped Carter only thought it was because of the cold. “You can rape me,” he said hoarsely. “But you can never make me find you anything other than revolting.”

Carter started unbuckling his belt. “Well, I’ll settle for the first half of that.” 

–

Yassen lay concealed in the back of the car as it bounced over the rough roads of the interior. They were heading away from the town, but from his position he couldn’t tell much more than that. For a while it felt like they were climbing into the hills, but soon Yassen sensed they were descending again. They hadn’t passed another vehicle for some time, and the unevenness of the track suggested they were some way off the main tourist routes.

Eventually the car slowed down, and Yassen braced himself for action. He’d been lucky thus far, but it wouldn’t hold forever and he needed to make sure what happened next happened on his own terms. 

As the car came to a complete stop, Yassen moved. With a flick of his wrist a knife slid smoothly into his palm, and he rose from the footwell like a vengeful ghost. A glance outside reassured him that for the moment they were alone in a deserted landscape and then he had the blade pressed to the driver’s throat and was staring at the man’s startled eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t move,” Yassen instructed quietly. “Don’t even breathe loudly. Now, I am having a very bad day, and I will not hesitate to slit your throat if I think you’re lying to me, do you understand?”

The man somehow managed to convey frantic nodding without actually moving his head, and Yassen nodded back. Good. The man might be dressed the part, but he was clearly an amateur. Nothing more than hired muscle.

“Is Alex here?”

The man swallowed, very carefully. “Yes.” 

“He’s alive?”

“Yes. At least – ” he hesitated, clearly seeing the danger of imparting bad news. “He was when I left.”

“Where are we?” Yassen asked, refusing to let himself get distracted. He couldn’t afford the luxury of despair. Equally, it was important to understand his surroundings, and the situation. They were back on the coast, not that you were ever far from it on Agatos, he could see blue water beyond a stand of scrubby trees. They were parked in the lee of a large rocky outcrop with no features of interest in sight but this track had to lead here for some reason. “What is this place?”

“There’s an old smuggler’s passage. Part natural, part man-made. Leads right through the rock. Carter’s been using it.”

Interesting. Yassen’s perusal of Carter’s holdings had suggested the man had been supplementing his income, this might explain the how and where. 

Now, Yassen had a choice. He could tie this man up and leave him – unconscious if need be – but that left a risk of him somehow escaping and raising the alarm, or creeping up behind him.

He could take him with him, as a hostage, but that would be awkward to manage.

Or – there was a safer, more final way. 

Yassen barely gave it conscious thought as the blade went in and sliced cleanly across the man’s throat. He sat back, out of the reach of the gushing blood and impervious to the gurgling noises of death. Then he reached forward, took the man’s gun, and got out of the car.

The day was already hot and Yassen was glad of the shade from the rocks as he moved away from the car. He checked the gun clip and looked around. There were footprints in the sandy dirt that lead to an old wooden door set into the cliff face. It looked ancient, but there was a new padlock and hasp that suggested it had been in recent use, and that surely wasn’t just for the abduction of Alex. 

Padlock or not, the door was standing half open and Yassen moved cautiously inside. There was a string of weak lights hooked to the wall, and he heard someone moving around up ahead. Every so often a chamber hewn from the rock opened out from the main tunnel, and they were all stacked with boxes of goods. Yassen suspected Carter had been following in the tradition of centuries of local pirates and smugglers. 

He was determined that Carter would face a similarly grisly end. 

He turned a corner, only to find a man coming towards him. Dressed in anonymous black fatigues like the last one, he saw Yassen and raised his gun with a shout of alarm.

Yassen was faster. His bullet took the man in the throat and he stood over him, pausing only long enough to check he was dead before moving on. 

At least it had given him a chance to get the measure of the gun; the weight, the sighting. It was a model he was unfamiliar with, lighter than he was used to, but well made. 

He’d been concerned the gunshot would draw attention, but all was silent. Perhaps it had been absorbed by the rock. Sound felt deadened somehow, and Yassen spared a passing thought for the tonnes of stone above his head. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. 

The passage was sloping steadily downwards and a bit further on he discovered the reason the shot had gone unnoticed, when he came to a second massive door. 

This one was firmly closed, but the bolts were on Yassen’s side and had been opened. He pulled it towards him and stepped inside. The air was damper on this side and he could hear the sea somewhere below. There was light in here too, and as he stepped carefully round a projection in the rock he saw where it was coming from.

Carter, his hands on a struggling Alex, saw Yassen at the same time Yassen saw him. He immediately lifted a knife to Alex’s throat.

Alex, and Yassen, both went still.

“Not another step Gregorovich, or I’ll – ”

What Carter might have done was lost to posterity, as Yassen shot him unhesitatingly between the eyes. Blood sprayed over Alex’s face and he flinched but stayed standing as Carter dropped like a sack to the stone floor.

Yassen covered the distance between them in seconds and used his knife to break open the cuffs.

“Nice shot,” said Alex weakly, and then he was in Yassen’s arms and they were holding each other as if their lives depended on it.

Yassen looked down at Carter’s motionless body and his expression darkened as he took in the fact Carter’s belt and flies were undone.

“Did he hurt you?”

Alex shook his head tightly. “Not like that. He – he was going to.”

Yassen held him close again and Alex clung back, neither of them speaking for a while. Then Alex looked up, belatedly remembering something urgent.

“There are guards somewhere. Posing as police.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

Yassen shook his head. “Then not any more.”

Alex gave him a watery smile, feeling dizzy. “You always were thorough.”

Yassen looked down at Carter’s body. “I’d have like to string it out a little more, after all this. Make it last for him. But that’s when things go wrong.” He sighed. “We need to get out of here, but I can’t just leave things like this. It requires a little stage management if we’re not to be suspected.” 

Alex squared his shoulders. “Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t want you involved.”

“I’m already involved! I’m not a child any more Yassen. You already had to save my ass. Leave me some pride. Let me help.”

Yassen gave him an exasperated look. “Fine. You’ll find a corpse in the passage. Bring him in here so it looks like they shot each other.”

“What about the other one?”

“I need to make him disappear completely, in case someone figures out these two were shot with the same gun. It’ll give them a plausible suspect. The fish can feed on him, they’re pretty quick at disposal. And I need to deal with a slightly bloodstained car.”

“Slightly?” Alex snorted. “Okay, I don’t want to know. Go.” 

“Alex – ”

“Go.” Alex kissed him. “I’ll be fine. Go stop us getting arrested.”

Yassen looked torn, but reluctantly went. Left alone with the rapidly cooling corpse of Carter, Alex kicked it sharply in the nuts. 

–

Alex found the other body and dragged it into the cave, dropping it in roughly the spot Yassen had taken the shot from. He took the man’s gun and carefully squeezed off a single shot into the water below so it would look fired, and put it back in the dead man’s hand. Yassen had left the other gun with Carter. It would look at first glance like they’d shot each other, and hopefully nobody would take a second look. 

The fact there was a large bloodstain in the outside passage was a problem, and Alex finally conquered his distaste and took off the dead man’s shoes, pressed them in the blood and left a trail down to the body before putting them back on. It would look like the throat shot hadn’t been immediately fatal, and that he’d followed Carter to take his revenge. 

Hopefully it would appear to be a simple matter of smugglers falling out, especially given the amount of contraband stored in the caves. Alex looked around with interest, having been unconscious when he was carried in. He’d had an uncomfortable moment wondering what might have been done to him during that time, but was reassured by the fact his clothes didn’t appear to have been disturbed. Carter had wanted him conscious, he suspected. 

Shuddering, Alex was glad to get back out into the open air and sunlight. Not far away the wreck of a large car was burning itself out and Alex had a nasty jolt of memory, remembering the time Yassen’s car had been blown up outside the sailing club.

Still, it was no doubt an effective way of getting rid of bloodstains. 

Alex wondered where Yassen was, and for that matter where they were at all and how they were going to get home if Yassen had just torched the only vehicle in sight.

He climbed the ridge overlooking the beach, and saw Yassen below, pulling a small sailing dinghy up onto the sand. He ran down to join him, discovering his hair was wet and his feet were bare.

“Found this boat on the beach,” Yassen explained, rinsing what looked like bloodstains off his hands in the warm water. “Handy for body disposal. I left our friend weighted out by the rocks, I’ll come back for him after dark, move him somewhere safer. I don’t think anyone will find him today.”

“Okay.” Alex was finding he was at the end of his tether. Part of him wished he’d left it all to Yassen, but having insisted on helping he could hardly back out again.

Yassen slung an arm around his shoulders. “All sorted in there? Let’s go home, huh? We can leave this tied up at the town quay, someone will make sure it gets back to its owner. Assuming it doesn’t belong to Carter in the first place,” he amended, realising the presence of a boat here might not have been coincidence.

They sailed down the coast, or rather Yassen sailed and Alex lay in the bows watching him, shading his eyes from the sun. He felt drained, but he thought Yassen looked almost energised. Two types of people, he thought, and stifled a laugh. If he started laughing he suspected he would start crying, and he wasn’t going to do that, at least not out here. Maybe alone in the dark with Yassen one day he would confess to his fears and trauma, but not here in the sunshine with Yassen looking like killing three men in quick succession had just given him a buzz.

They drifted into the main harbour unnoticed amongst the other day boats, and walked to where Yassen had left his car. Alex’s head was throbbing again and he leaned on Yassen as they walked, grateful for the strong arm around his waist. 

When they finally got home Yassen showered quickly and disappeared to check someone was in charge of the immediate club business. He had two deputy managers who helped with the daily workload, but he didn’t want anyone noticing that he and Alex had been absent that morning.

Left alone, Alex stood numbly under the shower for a long time, then crawled into bed. He should go and find Yassen, help pretend everything was fine, but he found he just couldn’t. 

When he heard the door to the flat open an hour later he tensed, then breathed a sigh of relief when Yassen appeared in the doorway.

“Everything okay?” Alex asked.

“Seems to be. Nobody’s noticed anything out of the ordinary, nobody’s talking about Carter. It may be some time before they’re even found.” Yassen climbed onto the bed next to him and Alex nestled into his side gratefully. 

“Are you alright?” Yassen asked, hugging him close. He’d hated leaving him even for a second, but he’d known it was more important in the long run to maintain the illusion of normality to everyone else.

“Yeah.” It sounded unconvincing, and Yassen kissed him on the side of the head. 

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Alex looked up in surprise. Yassen had saved him. Had killed for him. Had made everything right again.

“None of this would have happened if I wasn’t who I was.”

Alex shook his head. “You didn’t make Carter do it.” He sighed. “At least it’ll give me something new to have nightmares about, eh?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yassen offered quietly. On the trip back Alex had stayed silent on the details of his ordeal, and while Yassen didn’t want Alex to feel like he was being interrogated, he did want Alex to know he could discuss it if he wanted to.

“He threatened to slice me up,” Alex admitted after a moment. “Said you wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t so pretty.”

Yassen cupped his face and kissed him. “You know I still would have, right?”

Alex gave a breathy laugh, curling his fingers into Yassen’s. “Yeah. It’s funny. All this time it never occurred to me to worry you might only be with me for my looks.”

Yassen laughed too, pressing kisses into his hair. “That’s just a bonus, really.”

Alex smiled, then looked sombre again as he reflected on what else had happened. “He said he was going to rape me. Maybe give me to the others as well. I really thought – ”

He broke off, and Yassen stroked his hand. “You can tell me you know,” he said softly. “If they did anything.”

Alex shook his head. “It was just threats. But it wouldn’t have stayed that way.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to reach you.” Yassen cursed his decision to leave the flat that night, knew he would never forget those long hours of not knowing if Alex was alive or dead.

Alex squeezed his hand. “I knew you’d find me,” he whispered shakily. “And if it was too late? I knew you’d revenge me.”

Yassen pulled him into his arms almost roughly then and they clung to each other fiercely.

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Now what for?” Alex almost laughed. Almost.

“I should have got there sooner. Hell, I should never have let you be taken in the first place. They should never have got in.”

“I don’t want to live in a fortress.” Alex sighed. “And it worked out okay in the end.” He looked at Yassen critically. “Are _you_ okay?” he asked, finally realising that what he’d thought was Yassen’s seeming energy of before was actually a state of heightened tension and suppressed emotion.

Yassen hesitated, then shook his head and Alex wrapped his arms back around him and held him tighter than ever. Eventually Yassen looked up, forcing a smile. “I will be,” he promised. “I may just not let you out of my sight for a couple of weeks.”

“Maybe we should go away somewhere,” Alex said after a while. “I don’t mean for good. Just for a week or so. On the boat. Just the two of us.”

“You’d like that?”

“Yeah. We’ve got people we can leave to look after this place. And we’ve never really had a holiday.” 

Yassen kissed him gently, and settled down beside him. “It’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”

–

The motion of the boat was barely perceptible, there was no wind, the sky was cloudless and they were riding at anchor in a sheltered bay. It had been three weeks since Alex’s abduction and they’d spent most of those out here on the water. 

They’d given it a couple of days, not wanting to look like they’d left incriminatingly quickly, but after the initial furore over the discovery of the bodies had died down and nobody had pointed any fingers their way, Yassen had deemed it safe to leave.

At first Alex had been withdrawn and troubled, plagued by thoughts of what might have happened and distressed by what had. He told himself Carter hadn’t technically done anything that bad to him, but he could still feel the man’s groping hands, could still hear the disgusting things he’d said.

He’d worried about how to put it into words, agonising particularly over how to explain to Yassen that he didn’t really want to have sex at the moment, but in the end he hadn’t had to. After Alex had twice tensed and pulled away, Yassen hadn’t made any more advances. Alex had worried about that instead for a while, but Yassen still held him close at night, still talked and teased and comforted him. Letting Alex know in a hundred ways that he was there, and that he trusted Alex to know what he needed, whether that was to talk or just time. 

Gradually, the peace and sunshine had worked its soothing magic on Alex and he’d finally begun to relax. As his bruises had faded, so too had the immediacy of the memories and he started to find he was smiling again without thinking about it. 

They’d swum and fished and sunbathed, eaten fruit and fresh fish and drunk wine, lain stretched out on the deck holding hands under the stars, and lain holding each other close in the snug cabin below.

Now, Alex looked over at where Yassen was lying sprawled on the cushions, wearing a pair of swimming trunks and sunglasses and nothing else. Yassen was hardly one for lazing around, but there was nothing to do out here but relax, and eventually both of them had managed it.

Alex studied him, wondering if he was asleep, and appreciating the view. Since his ordeal the idea of sex had made him shudder, but it had never been Yassen that he had a problem with. 

Alex had done a lot of thinking over the last few days. It had occurred to him that after the trauma of his teenage years, his choice of Yassen as a partner might have had more than a little to do with the fact he’d needed someone who could handle the world he was part of. Someone who could handle themselves, could handle _him_. Someone who could keep him safe.

And he had. He hadn’t hesitated. That kind of unequivocal commitment was something Alex had never had from anyone else in his life. Everyone else had always an agenda of some kind. Yassen’s agenda, these days, was Alex. 

It was breathtaking, in a way. That this competent, dangerous, implacable man was all Alex’s, even after all this time.

And maybe it was the effects of the heat and the wine, but it was also, Alex concluded, fucking sexy. 

Alex made his way over and insinuated his way onto the boat cushions next to Yassen.

Yassen, who wasn’t asleep at all, made room for him and pushed up his sunglasses to smile at him.

“Hello.” 

“Hello.” Alex snuggled closer, and Yassen folded him into his arms. 

For a while they just lay there wrapped in each other, conscious of nothing but the heat of the sun and the other’s steady heartbeat.

Alex pushed his face into the crook of Yassen’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, tasting salt and suncream where his lips brushed skin. 

Yassen’s kisses recently had been soft and reassuring, fond pecks and the occasional lingering press of lips that said _I love you_ , and _I’m here_ , and _take your time_. Slowly, Alex was being overwhelmed by the need for more. 

He leaned up and kissed him. Yassen’s lips were warm and firm against his own, responding willingly to the urgency of Alex’s mouth.

As it became clear Alex was intent on more than a single impulsive kiss, Yassen hummed surprised approval, tightening his embrace and shifting their bodies together suggestively.

They pressed together, open mouthed kisses becoming increasingly heated as they responded to the other’s familiar touch. They were both soon blatantly hard, rubbing matching bulges against each other, enjoying the friction.

“You want to take this below?” Alex murmured, and Yassen cupped his face, kissing him and smiling. 

“You want to?” he checked, and Alex nodded, flushed and eager as all previous uncertainties melted away.

They retreated to the cabin, sprawling on the bed and kissing some more, peeling each other out of their trunks. Both equally aroused, and both laughing now.

The lube was kept to hand in a nearby cupboard and Alex reached for it first, Yassen watching him with a soft expression. He hadn’t been sure even now that Alex would want sex, would have been happy with whatever he was ready for, but he recognised that expression and was hardly going to say no.

Whatever Alex had been working through, he’d clearly come to terms with it. There was no hesitancy now in the way he reached for Yassen, or in the grip of his slippery fingers around Yassen’s cock.

Yassen swallowed hard. The sensations after three weeks of abstinence were almost overwhelming, and he wasn’t going to embarrass himself this quickly. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone so long without making love, maybe the year Alex had come down with flu. Even then he had the vague suspicion he’d jerked off in the shower at one point. This time he hadn’t, had held back in silent solidarity with Alex, and right now it felt so, so sweet.

Alex climbed into his lap, fingers between his own legs, all clumsy, fumbling haste. Yassen helped support him as he braced himself on Yassen’s shoulders, eyes wide as he lowered himself down and Yassen eased inside him.

With stifled moans Alex moved on top of him, slowly at first then with increasing urgency, bending to snatch kisses between gasping breaths as Yassen held him steady, strong hands firm on his hips. 

It was fast and rough and messy, and Yassen came first, still fucking up into him slowly, slick with his own release until Alex exploded all over his chest and collapsed in its wake.

Yassen slid out of him carefully and they kissed again, sloppy and sensitive and sweet.

“You okay?” Yassen murmured, and Alex nodded, smiling up at him in dazed and exhausted contentment. It had been cathartic, and, finally, what he’d needed.

“I love you,” Yassen whispered, cradling Alex in his arms and reluctant to let go yet even though they were both filthy.

“I love you too.” Alex stroked a hand down Yassen’s cheek. “Thank you.” Yassen looked enquiring, and Alex ducked his head. “For being so patient with me.”

“Alex.” Yassen’s voice was laden with emotion, and Alex gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, I know. But I wanted to say it. I just needed some time.” 

“I know.” Yassen kissed him softly. 

“And on that note – ” Alex laced his fingers into Yassen’s. “Let’s go home tomorrow.”

“You’re ready?”

“I’m ready.” Alex nodded.

“We don’t have to you know. We could just – keep sailing. Never go back.”

Alex half-laughed, then frowned as Carter’s words echoed in his head, about how could their life possibly be enough for a man like Yassen. 

“Do you want to?” he asked, knowing he would give up anything and everything, if it was what Yassen wanted. But Yassen just smiled fondly, and kissed him.

“No. Let’s go home.”

–


End file.
